


In Your Philosphy

by sarcasticsra



Category: Doctor Who, Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Timey-Wimey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-14
Updated: 2012-03-14
Packaged: 2017-11-01 22:42:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/362076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasticsra/pseuds/sarcasticsra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus Lupin and The Tenth Doctor meet three times--in reverse. They have something in common.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Your Philosphy

**Author's Note:**

> For pie_is_good. Thanks for the beta, Kelly.

There was a house nearby that he couldn't see.

The Doctor could sense the spatial disturbance—all right, well, the TARDIS could, technically, but either way, he knew it was there, and it intrigued him. In his experience, entire houses were generally only hidden for particularly good—no, particularly _notable_ reasons. Whether or not the reason was _good_ (or bad) actually depended quite heavily on whomever it was who had done the hiding. He wondered what the reason might be in this case.

No sooner had he flicked on his Spacey Wacey detector—it went ding when there _wasn't_ stuff—did a man appear in front of the spatially disturbed house. He guessed he was probably standing on what would be its front steps, if said front steps were not also spatially disturbed.

The Doctor grinned. Brilliant. “You there!” he called from the street, moving closer. “I couldn't help but notice that you just exited a house that doesn't exist. Well. Not doesn't exist, obviously it exists! How could you have been in a house that doesn't exist? But certainly you just exited a house hidden in some sort of spatial disturbance field, and I find that rather fascinating. Don't you find that rather fascinating? Hi, by the way. I'm the Doctor. What's your name?”

The man, who, he suddenly realized, looked rather upset, had tensed when he started speaking, but was now looking up, and was also wearing a stunned expression, his eyes wide in recognition. He walked down the invisible steps to meet him. “ _Doctor_? It is you, isn't it? And still you look just the same. It's the second time and still I can barely believe it.”

Interesting. This man had apparently met him twice before. “You know me?” he asked. “I'm afraid I don't know you, at least not yet. That's the problem with time travel—always meeting people out of order.”

“Yes. You mentioned that once,” the man said, running a hand through his greying-brown hair. It didn't make it any less unruly. Something seemed to occur to him suddenly, because he tensed again and said, “We can't stay here. There are Death Eaters close by.”

“Ooooh,” he said. “There's a name. Death Eaters. I like it. Lets you know right off that it's something ominous, doesn't it? Not a lot of cheery children's groups that spread good will going around calling themselves Death Eaters, are there?”

The man smiled at him then. “You haven't changed at all,” he said, and then, “Hold on,” and then the man had placed a hand on his shoulder and he felt a pull at his navel...

“Magic,” the Doctor said, with mild distaste. He'd never been a fan. Shaking his head, he glanced around, noting that they'd appeared in what seemed to be a park of some sort.

The man smiled again. “I remember how much you dislike it.”

“About that. You know me, but as I mentioned, I don't—”

“Oh, how stupid of me. I'm Remus. Remus Lupin. I suppose this explains why you knew so much about me when I first met _you_.”

“Remus Lupin? Brilliant. That's another great name. I love that name. You wouldn't happen to be a werewolf, would you? It'd almost be a shame if you weren't, what with a name like Remus Lupin—”

“ _Don't_ ,” Remus snapped, suddenly looking much less friendly than he had two seconds previously. “Just _don't_.”

“Ah,” the Doctor said, frowning. “Was that rude? Sometimes I’m rude. I can’t be ginger, oh no, but I can be rude.”

“My wife is pregnant.”

“Well, that's brilliant! Congratulations.”

Remus, however, only looked miserable. “I'm a werewolf, Doctor. My _son_ might be a werewolf. Even if he isn't, he'll be an outcast. My wife is an outcast already. How could I have done this? How could I have been so selfish?”

The Doctor eyed Remus. “So you want to run away.” It was not a question. He could see it in his eyes, and running away was not an impulse he had to guess about. He saw it in his own eyes every time he looked in a mirror.

“As if you haven't.”

“Didn't say that,” he said. “Never would. Sometimes running away is the only thing to do. Sometimes it's the best thing for everybody. Sometimes it's all you have left, so you hold onto that, because sometimes there's nothing else to hold onto.” He met Remus' eyes briefly, until Remus looked away.

“Harry's right,” he told the ground, after a few seconds of silence. “I am a coward.”

“Nah,” said the Doctor, dismissing that notion with a wave of his hand. “I know for a fact that's not true.”

“But you don't know that. I know you, but you've only just met me. How could you possibly be so sure?”

“'Cause I have it on good authority that I _will_ know you,” he said, grinning suddenly, “and between you and me? I don't waste my time getting to know cowards.”

Remus glanced back up, looking like something suddenly occurred to him. Slowly, he smiled.

*

Remus glanced around his mostly packed office, making sure he hadn’t forgotten about anything. He supposed Harry would be by shortly, once he’d learned of his resignation. That would be an interesting conversation, to be sure.

Shaking his head, he continued packing the last of his things into his suitcase. Suddenly, he heard a strange whooshing noise—except, no, it wasn’t strange at all. He’d heard it once before. Remus turned around just in time to see none other than the Doctor exit his blue police box-looking spaceship. “Doctor,” he breathed, unable to believe his eyes. The last time Remus had seen this man, he’d been a boy, still at Hogwarts, and here he was in front of him, looking as if he hadn’t aged a day. It was incredible.

“Remus?” the Doctor asked, looking surprised. Then he beamed. “Remus!” He strode forward, giving him a hug. “You look better than—no! Wait! Sorry. Not better, _younger_. You’re younger, aren’t you?”

“Younger?” Remus asked, perplexed. “The last time I met you, I was still a student.” He smiled. “You said we’d meet again.”

“Oh, time travel, it makes life interesting, don’t you think? I’m still out of order.”

Remus stared at him, unsure. “You’re out of order?”

“That’s the trouble with the Timey Wimey Ball,” the Doctor said, nodding. “Sometimes you meet people before they’ve met you, or vice versa. Or you meet at different points in your timelines. I believe I told you this.”

“You did?”

The Doctor frowned. “Or…I suppose I _am_ telling you this. Yes, this is me telling you this. You’ll remember this for later.”

“All right,” Remus said, amused despite himself. “What brings you here?”

“The TARDIS picked up on some random time travel signatures,” he said. “Thought I’d pop in, take a look around, see if anyone needed saving, that sort of thing.”

He smiled. “No, no one needs saving. At least not anymore. It’s all been done already. A couple students of mine had to set a few things right.”

“Oh,” said the Doctor, almost sourly. “They used a Time-Turner?”

“You don’t like those either?” Remus asked, amused. “It’s not magic, not really.”

“No, I know,” the Doctor replied. “But when you’re me, a Time-Turner…bit of a cheap parlor trick, to be honest. Suppose it’s good that there’s no problem, though. What needed setting right?”

“An innocent man needed to be saved from a horrible fate,” Remus said, amusement dimming. What had almost happened to Sirius…he didn’t want to think about it. “And an innocent animal needed likewise. It worked out in the end.”

“Sounds like it did,” the Doctor said, studying him. “But you don’t think it was enough?”

“No, I do,” Remus said. He meant it. Mostly.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t say anything, glancing around the room. “Oh, we’re in a classroom! Are you a professor now, Remus? You’d make a brilliant professor, mark my words.”

“You already knew I would be,” he replied, then frowned. “Or maybe you _will_ know?”

“Wibbly wobbly,” the Doctor replied, nodding.

Remus didn’t question it. That was the Doctor. “Well, I _was_ a professor, anyway. Not anymore.” He indicated his suitcase.

The Doctor’s face fell. “Aw, why’s that? Wait. Does it have anything to do with the fact that you’re a werewolf?”

“Yes,” Remus said. “A colleague, shall we say, _inadvertently_ told everyone about my…condition.” He gave the Doctor a wry smile, and he seemed to understand. “In this case, however, it’s justified. I didn’t take my potion the other night. I could have hurt or killed more than one student. That’s not something I can risk happening again.”

“And that’s the only reason you’re in a hurry to leave?” the Doctor asked, far too perceptively. He really hadn’t changed, not one bit.

“This place,” Remus said softly, glancing around. “This castle. Hogwarts holds so many memories. So many friends who aren’t around anymore.” He looked down at the floor. “So many secrets.”

“Ooh, secrets, memories, old friends. Sounds like there’s a whole mess of reasons not to stick around. Good thing your colleague gave you such a perfect excuse, then, isn’t it?”

“I’m not running away,” Remus said, suddenly defensive.

The Doctor merely shrugged. “If you must,” he said, completely without judgment.

He looked up, watching the Doctor’s face. He suddenly seemed very old and very wise, much older and wiser than Remus had first assumed by just looking at him. He remembered thinking something like that once as a boy, then later dismissing it as the work of an overactive imagination. He knew better now. “I must,” he said then, with conviction.

The Doctor nodded.

Remus looked away, glancing at his desk. Everything was packed now—everything except for the Marauder’s Map. He picked it up, tapping it once with his wand, and said, “I solemnly swear I’m up to no good.”

“There’s an oath I can get behind,” the Doctor said, grinning. He moved closer, peering at the map. “Oh, this is brilliant! It even sees me.” He pointed to a little dot labeled The Doctor. It was right next to the one labeled Remus Lupin. “What is it?”

“The Marauder’s Map,” he said, smiling. “My friends and I made it in school. It was originally your idea, you know.”

“Brilliant,” he said, grinning. “Absolutely brilliant.” He glanced at the map again, pointing to another dot that was rapidly heading toward them. “Looks like you’re about to have a visitor.”

“Ah, Harry. One of the students who helped set a few things right. I’m not surprised.”

The Doctor smiled. “I’ll let you talk to him, then. I’m sure there’s somewhere else I ought to be. You never know who might need saving.”

“Nice seeing you again, Doctor,” Remus replied.

“You too, Remus.”

With that, he headed back into his police box. It vanished with its distinctive whooshing sound, and Remus smiled, shaking his head. He returned his attention to the map.

*

“Don’t go anywhere near that Shrieking Shack, mister,” said the woman seated at the pub. She was older, her face weathered, and she wore a cloak that had seen better days. “It’s haunted something fierce. Loud, violent spirits. You don’t want to anger them.”

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. “Spirits, eh? Spirits happen to be my specialty. Well. One of my specialties. I have quite a few.” He grinned. “But spirits, oh, spirits and I go way back. Yes, I know a thing or two about spirits. I might have to take a look around.”

The woman rolled her eyes. “You’re a damned fool,” she said, and turned away from him, back to her drink.

The Doctor frowned. “Calling me a damned fool. How rude,” he murmured to himself, standing and leaving the pub. He headed for the apparently-aptly-named Shrieking Shack, if these violent spirit rumors had any sort of truth to them. Given that they were rumors, it really could go either way. That was the trouble with them, _rumors_. You never knew what you were going to get. Sometimes what was rumored to be evil spirits turned out to be nothing, a scared populace’s overactive imagination—and then sometimes the evil spirits actually turned out to be aliens attempting to destroy or take over the Earth. A tossup every time. That was why it was always best to look into these things.

He headed up the slope that led to the dilapidated old building, studying how it sat a little ways apart from the rest of the town. The fence around it looked suitably imposing, but the Doctor could tell that was not what was actually guarding it. He could _sense_ …something. Some sort of protection. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to make sure no one would be able to get in.

The Doctor grinned. He’d always been contrary. No sense in stopping now.

He got through the fence easily enough with the sonic; as he slowly approached the building, he couldn’t help but feel a presence—an agonized presence. The protections he’d sensed also got stronger the closer he walked; they fought to repel him, and they were strong, but he took a deep breath, letting the repulsion flow over him, like water down his back. It wasn’t easy, but it was possible; whoever had gone to all this trouble had certainly known what they were doing. As he circled around, he scanned the windows, all the obvious possible entrances, dismissing each one as he came to them.

Then he spotted it, partially covered by overgrown grass and bushes: a cellar entrance, chained and padlocked shut. Yes, that would do perfectly.

Using his sonic screwdriver, he unlocked the cellar doors and pulled them open; they were heavy and they didn’t want to budge—the house was still trying to repel him—but he managed in the end, and soon he was on his way down, descending into a very musty dimness.

The cellar was dark, but small, so it wasn’t too difficult to find the stairs. The ground floor thankfully had enough light peeking in through the boards on the windows that he could see just fine. He moved closer to one of the walls, inspecting a long, deep scratch. Interesting.

The Doctor moved into the next room, one that looked like it might have been the parlor at one point—if anyone had ever lived here, that was, which was something he was beginning to doubt. It was all so perfectly crafted, this place, and with the way it’d been so carefully protected to repel the curious, he couldn’t help but wonder if every detail hadn’t been carefully calculated. This place, he thought, was not only the epitome of the haunted house: it was the cliché. It was like it’d been built to be abandoned.

There were more scratches on the walls in this room. He studied them all, and when he reached the corner, his eyes fell upon a young boy, no older than twelve, huddled in a tattered blanket. Said boy was watching him with wide, round eyes, looking terrified.

“Hello there,” he said with a grin, trying to place exactly what it was in those eyes that looked so achingly familiar. “I’m the Doctor. I heard there were spirits hiding about in this place, thought I’d take a look. You haven’t seen any, have you?”

The boy shook his head.

“Me either. To tell you the truth, I’m starting to think it was all a big, fascinating hoax cooked up by someone very clever. Maybe even someone almost as clever as me, and that’s saying a lot.” He moved closer to the boy. “What’s your name?”

He swallowed. “Remus.”

Oh. No wonder. “Remus Lupin! Oh, it is you, isn’t it? You’re, what, twelve now? Brilliant.”

“You know who I am?” Remus asked, frowning.

“Of course I do,” the Doctor said, grinning toothily, “and you know me. Or at least you will.”

“Huh?”

“It all makes sense now. You’re the ‘spirits’ haunting this place! And of course it was built just for you and your transformations, topped with the perfect abandoned building exterior, and bam! Screams and howls and you’ve got yourself some scared townspeople and some rumors and an instant haunted house to make sure no one drops by unannounced. Just brilliant, I love it. I suppose there has to be a secret passage way somewhere around here, hasn’t there? You’d need a way to get here easily from school, wouldn’t you?” He grinned. “I have _got_ to meet whoever set this up.”

“Who _are_ you?” Remus asked, eyes wide.

The Doctor smiled. “An old friend. Don't worry. You'll know me better when you meet me again.”

“You know—you know what I am,” he said cautiously.

“Well, with a name like Remus Lupin.”

“Aren’t you—scared?”

“Why should I be scared?”

He looked down. “I’m a monster.”

“What’s so scary about that? I’ve met plenty of monsters. Decent enough lot altogether. Sure, you have your bad seeds, but that’s the case with any large group. Humans are a good bunch in general, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t some bad ones. Same goes for anyone.”

Remus glanced back up and was now staring at him in some kind of wonder. “You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met before.”

“I get that a lot,” the Doctor said, grinning.

He even smiled there, just a little bit, before it vanished from his face. “I wish more people thought like you did. Or like Dumbledore.”

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. “Any people in particular?”

“My friends,” Remus said glumly. “They’re starting to wonder why I always disappear once a month, asking questions. Having a sick mum only works as an excuse for so long. They’re going to figure it out.” He sighed.

“I have a feeling that won’t be as bad as you think it will.”

“How could it _not_?” he asked miserably. “I wish I could make it so they never did. Maybe if I could just…run away, they never would. You know?” Remus looked up suddenly, meeting his eyes. The Doctor held his gaze for a long moment, wondering what Remus was searching for, wondering what he saw.

“I know,” he said quietly, “but there’s more to life than knowing.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment. “You seem to know a lot.”

“I do,” he replied, not arrogantly, but because it was true. “But there are some things I wish I didn’t.”

Remus looked like he was considering that, and the Doctor left him to it, deciding to search for the secret passageway. He loved secret passageways, especially when they were well done. He suspected it had to be in the cellar, and sure enough, there he found a hidden tunnel…with a fresh set of clothes on the ground. He picked them up and climbed back up the stairs. “Are these for you?” he asked Remus.

“Yeah. Someone always leaves them for me in the morning.” Remus stood and took them, and the Doctor turned away while he dressed. “You said you’re a doctor?”

“The Doctor,” he corrected. “Just the Doctor.”

“That’s a Muggle term,” he said, frowning. “But you don’t act like a Muggle.”

“I don’t use magic, if that’s what you mean. To tell you the truth, I don’t really care for it. I find it rather…untrustworthy.” He smiled. “But there are more types of people in the universe than just wizards and Muggles, Remus. Believe that.”

“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy,” Remus murmured softly.

The Doctor broke out into a wide grin. “Oh, Remus Lupin, I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

Remus blushed. “It’s mum’s favorite play.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” he said. “Now,” he clapped his hands, “are you ready to take me through this tunnel?”

Remus shrugged. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Remus led the way, and they eventually emerged at the base of a violently swinging willow tree. “It’s the Whomping Willow,” Remus explained, picking up a branch. “You just do this.” He used the branch to press a small knot on the bark, and the tree instantly froze.

“Brilliant,” the Doctor murmured.

They headed off the grounds and into the school itself. “And this is Hogwarts.” Remus smiled faintly. “I like it here.”

“I know. You come back when you’re older, as a professor.” He grinned. “You’ll do a lot of good.”

There was that awed look again. “Who _are_ you?” he demanded again.

The Doctor simply smiled. “Tell me,” he said, “is there another passageway to Hogsmeade?”

“A few. My friends and I have found some. I can show you the best one.”

Remus led him to the third floor, stopping in front of a one-eyed stone witch statue. “Dissendium,” he said as he tapped it, and it opened to reveal another tunnel.

“Brilliant,” the Doctor said again, grinning. “You and your friends, you’re a clever lot. You should write these down. Maybe make a map.”

Remus smiled at the idea, climbing into the passageway. The Doctor followed him, and they ended up in a musty old basement. “We’re in Honeydukes,” Remus told him.

“The sweet shop! Perfect. That means she should be right—ah, yes, just where I left her.” The TARDIS looked no worse for wear, though several crates of sweets had been stacked around her since he’d left. That amused him. “Thank you, Remus. You’ve been a big help.”

“What is that?” Remus asked, eyes big.

“My Hogwarts,” the Doctor said, after a moment of thought. “The TARDIS. She’s my ship.”

“Your ship?” Remus said, and it looked like he was putting the pieces together. “You’re definitely not a Seer. You have a ship…are you…could you possibly be…a time traveler?”

The Doctor grinned. “Ten points to Gryffindor.”

That startled him. “You—you know all about Hogwarts, don’t you? And you know all about me. You know so much more than you ever let on.”

“It’s a habit, I’m afraid,” he replied. “What do you say, Remus? Fancy a trip?”

Remus bit his lip, glancing at the TARDIS and then back at the trap door leading to the tunnel to Hogwarts. “I can’t. Everything’s here. Hogwarts is here. My friends are here. I have to stay.”

“Even if they figure out what you are?”

“Even then,” he said, and his voice shook.

The Doctor smiled in response, impossibly sad and knowing and proud all at once. “Oh, Remus. I was so right about you. You’re not a coward at all. Remember that.”

He looked surprised and confused, and the Doctor just unlocked the TARDIS’ door, stepping inside. “Have a good life, Remus Lupin. You deserve it.”

He shut the door and headed for the controls, watching through the monitor as Remus watched the TARDIS fade away.


End file.
